


His Heart

by espressorobotics



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Ambiguously Platonic Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gratuitous use of italics, OOC bullshit I'm so sorry, platonic fluff, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6603118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espressorobotics/pseuds/espressorobotics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick fluffed up piece in which Sten is forced to confront his supposed """feelings""" about the Warden, Nydia Surana, AKA my headcanon for the first time he calls the Warden kadan. (This may or may not be super OOC for Sten, but I tried and that's what counts.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Heart

"You're not very good at hidin' it, y'know."

It was a bewilderingly vague statement, even for Oghren. Sten - who assumed the accusation was directed at him, considering they were the only members of their party currently seated around the smoldering campfire - shot a glance at the shorter man, puzzled. "What?"

The dwarf chuckled, coming off as more innebriated than gleeful - which he was. "Aye, I'm talkin' to you. Tell me, big boy - how long've you been pinin' over the boss?"

Sten averted his gaze, staring instead at the dull, familiar flicker of the firepit. _The boss._ He must have been talking about the Warden. Why bring her up now? "I thought that pine was a sort of tree in your language, not a verb for...whatever it is you're referring to."

"Oh, please, you gargantuan teddy bear," Oghren said, shaking his head and stumbling over to the log Sten had chosen to sit upon. He heaved himself down onto it with a sigh, though it was a wonder how he stayed on top of it in his state. "You know what I'm talkin' about. She's a keeper, she is. Bit young for my taste, but yours is the one I'm worried about."

The qunari scoffed, and tried to shift away from Oghren as he continued to move closer. "Again, your language befuddles me. My 'taste' has nothing to do with the Warden, as she is not a food to be eaten and-"

"Wouldya quit that sodding act already?" Oghren growled though his bristly beard. "Everyone knows you speak the Common tongue as well as your own and better than some, so don't even try usin' that as an excuse to ignore me. You fancy that Warden, no doubt about it - only question is what you plan on doin' about it."

"Fancy her?" Sten turned his head around to catch one last glimpse of the Warden before she disappeared into the nearby glen, alongside Alistair and Zevran - off to find fuel for the campfire Sten and Oghren were enjoying. He turned back around, still refusing to meet his gaze. "What would give you such a foolish impression?"

Oghren cackled madly, swaying in his seat. "Maybe - heheh - maybe it's the way you stare at her like a duster looks at a deshyr. Or the way you never leave her bleedin' side, like she needs protectin' or somethin'. Why don't you just bed the damn woman already, before darkspawn slaughter the both of you?"

"Because I do not desire that - that woman, in such a manner. We are companions - partners, nothing more."

" _That's_ your problem!" Oghren shouted, moving in close to whisper to Sten, who promptly leaned away as the dwarf's alcohol-riddled breath filled the space between them. "You gotta - you gotta stop bein' partners and start bein' lovers already. You have to _woo_ her. Before-"

He glanced around furtively and whispered his next words, as though afraid someone might overhear their conversation.

"Before that - _hic_ \- bloody pervert gets 'er first. You know the one. Sevan."

"Zevran."

"That's what I just sodding said, isn't it?" The ginger-haired dwarf roared, back to his usual boisterous volume. "He looks at her the same way you do. Protects her, the same way you do. He's gonna - _hic_ \- he's gonna get her first, you mark my words. Unless you put your big-boy pants on and - and-"

Sten growled, clapping a massive hand over the drunken man's mouth. "Your voice is enough to wake the dead. And this conversation is pointless - I don't care for the Warden. The elf can do as he pleases."

Oghren peeled the qunari's thick fingers away from his mouth. "You don't mean that."

Sten glared into his blue eyes, unwavering. "And if I do? What difference does it make to you?"

"Well, it makes a difference to you, doesn't it? And I want you to be happy, you bleedin' idiot."

Sten was halfway into standing up and walking away when Oghren's words made him freeze. Slowly, he lowered himself back down, and turned to face his companion. "What do you mean?"

"What the sod d'you think I mean?" Oghren replied, suddenly sounding far too sober. "I want you to be happy. And any duster could tell that she makes you happy. Little _too_ happy, sometimes. But you haven't done a damn thing about it - you haven't even told her, have you?"

"I--" Sten struggled to find an adequate reply, not expecting such emotion from Oghren, of all people. He shook his head. "There is nothing to tell. And even if there were - why would I? Such a thing is preposterous when surrounded by darkspawn and constantly in danger of death."

"All the more reason to tell her, you blighter," Oghren said. "She cares about you too, but you gotta march right up and tell her - and make her believe you. Before you're dead. Otherwise you'll never know what could've happened, and you'll regret it more than you could ever regret just _telling_ the damn girl that you-"

" _Quiet!_ " Sten half shouted, half whispered the command with obvious urgency. A rustling in the trees told him that they wouldn't be alone for long. "I suspect even the archdemon could hear you at your volume."

"Oh no, you're not shuttin' me up just yet, duster," Oghren responded in an even louder voice. "Not until you swear you're gonna tell that damned Warden that you-"

"I swear it, _bas_ , now quiet yourself."

"You swear _what?_ "

Sten bit back more than a few curse words. "I swear to tell the Warden. Are you satisfied?"

"Tell her _what?_ "

" _Vashedan_. You are insatiable."

"Save that kinda talk for my bedroll, nug-humper. Now, _what're you gonna tell the Warden?_ "

Sten felt the warmth of blood creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. It was not a common feeling, this anxiety - the rustling in the trees grew closer. "I swear to tell her-"

A burst of laughter from Zevran and Alistair cut him off before he could finish the sentence, as they followed Nydia out of the trees carrying bundles of branches for the fire. Sten released a breath he didn't know he was holding, relieved to see that conversation ended.

"You two are complete imbeciles, you know that?"

"What? _Both_ of us?" Zevran teased, tossing a few twigs onto the embers, watching them burst into temporary flames. 

"I thought it was him," Alistair added, kneeling to shove a few larger bits of timber into the fire. "He brought it up, after all. I just laughed."

"Imbeciles. No getting out of it."

Despite her commentary, Sten could see a grin on the Warden's face as she set down the remaining pieces of wood in a neat pile next to his seat. The elven woman's shadow danced across Sten as she stood before the fire, and he did his best to swallow back that strange panic he'd felt just moments ago. He could not quell the sensation that something was wrong with his face - a fear that was confirmed as she sat down beside him with a sigh, and met his eyes with a puzzled expression. 

"Are you feeling alright, Sten? You look...flushed."

The warrior felt his panic return. Embarrassment was not something he was used to; something he was clearly not equipped to deal with. So the qunari offered only a noncommittal grunt in response, before rising from his seat and leaving the campfire entirely, standing instead on the small hillock between the main camp and Morrigan's tent.

Even at that distance, Sten could hear them quite clearly. "What's wrong with him? Oghren, I heard you two talking. Did you upset him?"

"Ah, the big lug's just mad 'cause I'm right."

"Was it just me, or was our qunari friend _blushing?_ " Sten heard the Antivan Crow muse aloud. "Perhaps there is a heart somewhere in his chest after all. I thought it was just a stone."

Oghren grunted, apparently still dissatisfied. "Go get him back here, Nydia. He'll tell you. He _swore._ "

The way they spoke, Sten wondered if they knew just how much he heard of their daily conversations from his place on the hillock. He could almost always eavesdrop, whether intentionally or not, and he was gladdened by it on occasion. Particularly when the conversations pertained to him - as they had just the night before.

"I want to hear your opinion on some of our...companions," Alistair had addressed Nydia privately as she tended the fire, once seemingly everyone was asleep. Sten was not, though he laid perfectly still atop a bedroll nearby. "Like that qunari fellow. He's quite unsettling, isn't he? The way he stares, and those _eyes_..." The templar shuddered. "Creepy. Doesn't he make you nervous?"

"We have nothing to fear from Sten," she replied quietly, as though she knew he was listening. "He is a good man, and if you call him creepy again I'll smash your head with this piece of timber."

Her answer had surprised and amused the quiet qunari. Alistair's reaction was not an uncommon one, and he had expected her to agree, but she chose to defend him instead. It was...odd, to think that not every _bas_ was stricken with fear of the giant race.

"Okay, not necessary, but...You do realize that he's _killed_ people, right? Innocent people. You're telling me that doesn't bother you in the slightest?"

The statement made Sten want to vomit. It was bad enough reminding himself of his crimes daily, but to hear other people so rightfully condemn him...It was torturous, this regret that he could never leave behind. He braced himself, waiting to hear Nydia's confirmation, but again he was caught off-guard.

"No," she answered with surety. "He made a mistake, one that he regrets, and he deserves redemption. Redemption through a method that _isn't_ death by darkspawn. What more is there to be said? He has morals, which is more than can be said for many humans, and I trust him. You should too."

"I'm not sure his morals align with ours."

"Alistair, he put _himself_ in that cage to await death. That alone should prove his character. It's enough for me, and it ought to be enough for you."

Finally, Alistair had agreed. "Okay, okay. Fair enough. I suppose I'll just have to take your word for it."

"Damned right. Besides, you're only jealous you're not the tallest person in camp anymore."

"Oh, such harsh words from such a beautiful woman."

Sten had turned over then, and the two ceased conversing for the remainder of the night. He had fallen asleep only to the sound of the fire crackling with fresh wood.

Even now, Sten doubted they knew he was listening. But he was, regardless, and so he was unsurprised when Nydia wandered over with a question on her lips.

“You are alright, aren’t you, Sten? Not going to run off on me?”

He glanced downward - as the elven Warden was significantly shorter than he - and shook his head.

“I am fine. Do not concern yourself.”

“It's too late, you've concerned me,” she responded, hands on her hips and dark eyes refusing to leave his lavender ones. “What did Oghren say to you? I can make sure he doesn't do it again.”

Sten's frown deepened. "The dwarf merely believes he was able to provoke me. He was not."

Nydia remained unconvinced. "You are a terrible liar. He obviously said something, or you wouldn't be so red. I've never seen such a strong reaction from you that wasn't anger. Now, tell me what he said! I don't want to have to ask Oghren when he's in _that_ state," she complained, pointing back toward the campfire where the dwarf had seemingly collapsed on top of Zevran.

The qunari sighed, with another shake of his head. "Why do you concern yourself with the problems of others? It is a pointless exercise."

"Not pointless," she insisted, mimicking his head motion with added fury. "If you are upset, you won't fight well. If you don't fight well, we can't defeat the archdemon. If we can't defeat the archdemon, _everyone_ will be upset. And we can't have that, so you must tell me."

"You exaggerate."

"And you are a liar. Now tell me why you are upset - or, if you still won't admit to being upset, at least tell me what you supposedly swore to him."

Sten could not help the small smile that plagued his face as they spoke. Her stubbornness combined with her aggressive desire to be a good friend made for a strangely endearing combination. He had not had so attentive a companion since the death of his fellow Beresaad scouts all those months ago...

"It was nothing worthy of your attention, kadan."

A sudden silence followed his response, a silence in which the final word echoed in Sten's mind. Upon realizing what he had said, the qunari became a statue.

Nydia, too, seemed confused. "What did you call me?"

What indeed. He had never intended to use _that word_ \- no one outside of the Qun could be deserving of such a title. Could they?

"Sten?"

It must have been an accident, he told himself. His old companions had been on his mind, and the word had merely slipped. But no, words like that don't _slip._

He shook himself from his current state of shock, fumbling for a lie to disguise his mistake. "It was - _kadan,_ " he repeated the word with difficulty. "It means - I mean - there is no word for it in your language. The best translation would be...Small goat."

The Warden furrowed her brow. "Really? I...I guess I should be hurt."

Sten finally regained his composure, and took a quick breath, feeling that heat creeping up his neck again. "It is only a mild insult in Seheron. More affectionate than hurtful, usually."

Again, she did not seem convinced by the lie, but smiled wryly at him regardless. "That just about sums up our relationship, doesn't it? More affectionate than hurtful, but only just."

He nodded. "I suppose."

Nydia sighed, and while Sten was not one for reading expressions, it was obvious she knew he was lying. It was also obvious that she was tired, disappointed - and resigned to a temporary loss. "I'll leave you be for tonight. You _will_ tell me later. Get some sleep, Sten."

She walked a few paces away, before turning back to add: "You're blushing again, by the way. I hear cold water helps."

With that, she returned to the main camp - likely to help the others carry Oghren into his tent - leaving the lone warrior atop the hillock.

He couldn't believe himself. He had just used a Qunari honorific on a Fereldan elf-mage, of all people. Had it truly been an accident? Was she, somehow, more deserving of the title than he thought? 

Yes, he respected her leadership. How could he not, after failing to take command himself and losing to her in single combat? 

Yes, he admired her ferocity in battle. She was a warrior fit to rival him and anyone else who dared to try her patience. 

_Yes,_ he appreciated her constant quest to do good, and her unwavering devotion to her friends as well as her cause, and the way she followed no path given to her, but the one she forged herself. In fact, he loved that about her, despite the fact that it went against all the teachings of the Qun. He regarded the Warden with more than admiration; she held a special place in his heart now, as his best friend.

But to use that word...Sten had always used it sparingly, saving the title for only his closest, most respected companions. All of whom, until recently, had been _qunari_. Nydia was perfectly worthy, by comparison, as she had earned his respect a thousand times over; but no non-Qunari could be named so. It was practically taboo to even form bonds with _basra,_ much less publicly refer to an _elven mage woman_ as...that. It was all entirely preposterous. It _must_ have been an accident.

Yet he could not deny the connection he had with this blasphemous fool who had saved his life. Oghren claimed it was love, though Sten thought that might be too strong a word. Even so, his feelings - however much he denied them - went far beyond respect. Nydia Surana was, in all senses of the word, the heart of the many...including himself.

Intentionally or not, he had called her _kadan,_ and he had meant it.


End file.
